


Thoughts-Rants-Drafts

by Fox_Fantastic



Category: Multi-Fandom, The Last Guardian (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Boredom, Creatures, Cussing, Death, Drabbles, Drafts, Emotional, Fairies, Fighting, Fluff, Magic, Multi, Multiple Universes, Original Works - Freeform, Rants, Romance, Story, Superpowers, Swearing, Violence, Weird, abilities, au's, lack of motivation, multi-fandom - Freeform, mythical creatures, thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:16:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Fantastic/pseuds/Fox_Fantastic
Summary: Just drabbles I write and don't have the motivation to continue. It has rants, thoughts, and little stories.





	1. Draft: The Four Kingdoms

The cold air slashed at my skin. It whistled in my ears, screaming at me to run faster. The dull thud of my feet on the forest floor, it told me to count the seconds I had. The pain in my body, it flared and boiled my skin. Stretching and contracting my flesh with every breath.   
My chest heaved and pushed against its limits. The aching my lungs endured told me to give up. But, the cracking of trees behind my told me otherwise.   
Imagines flashed through my head. They clicked together, rushing themselves into memories. The deep punctures in the wood, the deep claw marks on the trees. Thinking back to it, I can smell the smoke. Their claiming of territory.  
I shot out my hand and grabbed a tree, swinging myself behind it. As I caught my breath I looked behind the tree. My distance gave me the perfect view of the plumes of smoke.   
There's no time, I need to warn the others.  
The race to the camp proved more difficult than I thought. My blood had finally soaked through my coat. The deep crimson harder to see against the black material. Mattie is going to kill me if blood loss doesn't.  
A chuckle escapes my lips. When I die? That'll be the best day of my life. Here in this shit-hole, it's better of that way. But not all of us have the privilege.   
The chosen. Their the ones who save the world, the heroes of the story. 'Amazing warriors who'll banish this world of darkness.' The crowds of people cheering for them are sickening. Their ignorant, stuck-up, annoying, little kids who can't see the world. Too blinded by the tales from their childhood, believing their all that.   
Reaching the edge of a cliff I'm given a beautiful view. The camp, lit in soft lights of different colors. Blues and pinks, light greens and calming purples. My gaze passed over the shabby houses all built together. Leaving enough room for narrow roads.  
The uneven ground and messy buildings. Homes. Homes with slanted roofs. Tall ones and small ones. Long and short ones. But, nonetheless homes.  
I hear the city calls apartments homes. Most of the time I don't believe them. They call anywhere the sleep their homes. Where they have the most resources. That's not home, home is a safe place. The cities are not safe places, they made sure of that.  
Memories bubble up as my tears run down. Wow, I'm spacing out while bleeding out. Typical me, huh?   
I stumble down the side of the cliff. Trudging my way to the camp. The grass sways around my legs, making an audible shuffling noise. People walk around, trading, and plainly talking about recent events.   
My eyes catch onto a figure who stands out greatly. His height and bright copper hair make him an easy target.   
"Hey! Lamp post!" I yell. His body tenses, but he continues talking. "I swear! I'm bleeding out here! Get your slow ass over here and help me!" His head dips down for a second, and turns to me. That asshole is glaring at me. "Oh, sorry! Please get your f-"  
"I'm coming you impatient-"  
"Don't be yelling at me! I've got my side clawed open and am currently bleeding out. The least you could do is humor me."  
"I didn't get you cut open, that was your doing."  
"Yeah! Cause I took your scouting shift!"  
He grumbles something under his breath and walks between clumps of indifferent people. His body towers over me. His gaze stony as he gazes down at me. "Topaz, please. I'm in pain and just want to get patched up," I plead.   
He huffs and bends down. Easily taking my figure into his arms. The weight lifts off my sore side, relieving a small amount of the hissing pain. Topaz maneuvers around the people and heads to one of the many houses.   
Eventually, he reaches a more solitary house. It's larger and is separated from the other houses with a garden.   
The garden is mostly greens. There's various herbs and more treatment needed plants. She has tons of dandelions in it, though. She absolutely loves dandelions, constantly talking about how great they are. She's said it so many times I've memorized a good amount of it.  
'I can't believe they consider dandelions weeds! There so greatly helpful. They secrete latex, so there basically natural rubber. There the best companion plant! The long taproot they have bring up good nutrients and release ethylene gas which ripens other plants faster. Bees love them! Dandelions are great for liver and digestive problems. They grow easily, and are rich in vitamins, a, c, k, beta-carotene, calcium, iron, manganese, and potassium!'  
Just remembering that one part gives me a headache. Bad thing having your best nurse also being a botanist, you can't leave while recovery. And she never runs out of things to say.  
Topaz shifts my body in one of his arms, reaching the other out to open the door. A thick smell of different plants and cold medicine hits me in the face. "Honey, I'm home!" I sarcastically yell into the house.  
"I don't think yelling is going to help the gash in your side," Topaz grumbles. He's right. It really hurt when I did it, but I'm not going to admit that.  
"Your grumbling isn't helping either," I snide. He mumbles something so quiet I don't even hear. Topaz carries me through the main room, leading us to the 'emergency room'. It's more like 'Mattie's stupid friends who constantly get hurt and need medical assistance' room.  
Once he gets through the door he instantly heads for a bed. He gets to the one closest to the wall, the one with a window next to it. Topaz knows I love that one. Mainly because I use it to yell at him from inside.   
He gently lies me on the bed. His eyes turn to his side, covered in patches of my blood. "I'm going to take a shower after this," he mutters.  
And soon enough, in comes Mattie striding through the door. We all make eye contact. We're all having that 'a parent walked into the kids trying to steal cookies' look.   
She raises her index finger, then puts it down. Instead opting to put her hand on her face and whisper something. I just caught, "...their going to be the death of me."  
"Mattie, Mattie, Mattie! Don't worry, everything's great. This is only, hopefully, a shallow cut and it'll be okie dokie. I just need to clean it and bandage it up. See? I've gotten better!" I quickly say.   
Mattie doesn't actually say anything, but her face told me enough. The flat disappointed and somewhat done with your crap look you'd get from your Mom. Topaz takes a seat in the chair next to me. Mattie walks and comes back with a rag, a bowl of water, a roll of bandages, and peroxide. Her ability to always only have that 'one trip.


	2. Rant: The Feeling of Impossible

WARNING: This is a super depressing rant that was written at like 12 am. It gets more light and happy like halfway through the 3rd page. (This note is also from 12 am, so sorry again. I tend to ramble and don't expect people to listen.)  
Do you know that feeling, the feeling of the impossible?   
Where you want to scream, but be silent. The times that you want to claw into your skin. To feel the fiery pain blister through your skin. That your body yearns for action, but your mind wants to freeze.  
The moments you want to stop, but remember you can't. The aching in your chest as you try to keep composure. How your breath hitches as it scratches up your chest to your throat.  
Stinging tears of pity, anger, even sadness. When you listen to others words, but they only contradict.   
Times when they hold fake authority. Seconds when you want to prove them wrong. To show them your strength, your power, your emotion.   
Violence breaths down your spine. Thoughts of painful rage blossom into your mind. When you know you can hurt them, damage them, prove them wrong.   
The cleansing of anger with action. Clenching of the fist, the twitch of the eye. The screams lodged into your throat with only mental direction.   
Times where you had to bite your tongue until it bled. Where the pain in your mouth was better than the future pain. Toxic words that could trudge from your mouth. Words that can tear themselves into the air, leaving invisible scars.   
That the metallic taste of blood is better than the cold, metal eyes you'd have to face.   
The horrible words that you hear, but can not repeat. Poisonous words of another person behind their back. When they believe their sly, but everybody is doing the same.   
Halting times when your the middle man. Being told terrible tells from different mouths about each other. Unable to stop it. Like blasting speakers from every side without a pause button.  
Seconds that you wanted so badly to blurt it all out. But, stopped yourself. The seconds you decided to not send that text, that call. When you reached out your hand, but dragged it back in fear.  
Fear of rejection, of anger, of the fire getting higher. Afraid if you add more people it'll all get worse. That you don't find a solution, but you find a lighter. That all your attempts will go up in flames.   
When you feel so empty, so hollow. That you want to have somebody. Somebody, sometimes anybody. That their just their, somebody to hold. To feel the fabric of their clothes against your skin. The reassurance that your still there. Your still just a human, just a kid.   
A kid who doesn't know. A kid who hasn't got the experience or knowledge. That your just trying, trying so fucking hard.   
The times that you tried, but it doesn't work. The frustration the gathers, the anger and pain. It forms in fists and yelling. The tearing of paper and the shattering of glass. Even the stinging of tears and muttering.   
Sometimes, it simmers down. Sometimes, it's doused with helplessness and despair. That you can't speak out without being questioned. That there has to be a place where it started. That there has to be a why, a when, a how.  
That they can't accept one thing. There has to be a trail, something to follow. But there isn't, it's just there.   
The feeling of being caged, but being able to move freely. That your chest is being crushed, but your breathing. That you need to release, but there's consequences if you do.   
I remember, I know. The feeling of pride inside, yet it's swept away easily by others. When you need somebody to say 'Your doing great, keep going!'.   
But all you get is silence. Silence that could hide disappointment, hatred, anger, pity.  
When you actually tell others. The time you finally got the courage and spoke up. But their not listening. They nod, they agree, they disagree, but don't remember. How much it hurts and you want to scream.   
Scream at them that they should listen. They should hear you and say something. The horrible pain that they don't care. That they won't ever put effort into you.   
I know. It happens constantly. Even the little things hurt. The simple request to listen, to read, to be a part. But it's ignored.  
It feel so damn painful and suffocating. That all of your emotions and thoughts are trying to drown you. That all you can do is sink. That your falling deeper and deeper as you watch the light fade.  
But, you still struggle. You still stood up. You still spoke up. You did something. And that's an accomplishment.  
Talking to someone, eating breakfast, even waking up is an achievement. It proves you're still trying. Your still breathing. And your a great person because of that. I'm proud of you.   
Just know, that someday, you'll get that somebody. I'm not really saying a significant other, but just somebody. That person you tell your weirdest thoughts, no holding back.  
The person you talk to for hours about things that don't matter. Times when you just lay on your bed giggling together about stupid things.   
When you can look at each other and burst out laughing with just a funny look. Someone you tell your embarrassing stories to. The person that makes your life that much better. That they'll always try to help you.  
This person is special in their own way. Special to you in their own weird way.   
And sometimes, your that person. They might not tell you, but that doesn't change it. They might not be your person, but just a friend. Even a stranger!   
Your a person who makes their chest lighter. It's that feeling of reassurance, of just being correct.   
The bus driver that always waves to you. That one kid who smiles at you whenever they see you. You don't need to know their names.   
There is also the people that you'll love and those who you did love. You may no longer, but it was there.  
The person you'll wave to. The one who'll smile as you text them. This is somebody you love, somebody you cherish. The person who is willing to argue with you because you're that important. That their willing to put time and effort into you.  
This person is the one you want close to you. That the presence of them is enough to make you grin. The person, who even in silence, is the best. Who wraps their arms around you and makes you smile.   
It doesn't have to be romantic. It could be platonic, even a tad bit spiteful. But, their still there for you. Their ready to catch you and cheer you up.


	3. Draft: The Silent Statue

The green brush flew by me in a flurry of colors. Flowers splotched it with surprising pinks, reds, and yellows. The blue sky. Beautiful as it pierced through the leaves.   
My laugh echoes through the forest. I slow once I get into an opening. I flop down onto the warm spring grass. The Sun gazed over the forest, bathing it in the warm light. Blades of grass engulf my figure. They wrap around me, making me invisible.   
I feel a smile spread over my face. This place, this forest, it's wonderful. I'm truly blessed to live here, to see the natural beauty. Who else gets to see this, to see us?   
Humans make such a fuss about us. Their 'fairytales' and 'myths', are downright degrading. 'Fairies will grant you a wish! They'll give you anything you want! Their the most blessed and kind creatures!' It gets annoying.  
Most can't get it through their thick skulls that we're basically humans. Some of us are small with wings. Some are small, but can be a human's average size. There's even large ones with wings, and small ones that don't.   
But, that will happen with any race. Suddenly, my face begins to get cold and the familiar warmth of the Sun leaves. Opening my eyes reveal the mystery. Clouds blocked the enormous star from sight. My whole body realizes the change, goosebumps cover my skin.   
I should be heading home anyway. With the coldness came my wish that I would have brought my coat. Maybe, I'll take a detour to Lily's house. She might still have my coat from last week. Huh, last week. Time flies when you don't watch it.   
Finding her house in the forest is easy, since I know it like the back of my hand. That and her house is the size of a football stadium compared to me.   
Her house isn't in a clearing, it's actual surrounded by trees. Moss hangs from the ceiling, while vines creep up the walls. Flowers of all sorts bloom across the building. I've seen people mistake it for a really big flower bush. Convenient disguise. Well, at least for Lilly. Her being a witch does attract a lot of bad attention.   
People seem to always assume witches are these wicked people. If not that, their the basic hipster. Really similar to the stereotype of fairies being like Starbuck vloggers.   
The house's door swings open, revealing Lilly in her gigantic glory. She has a smirk on her lips and I already know what's up. "I'm not testing any of your weird potions," I seethed. "Last time I tested your potions, I got green skin."  
"But Brooooook! It was for camouflage," She whines.   
"I'm a hunter fairy! I can turn invisible! Why do I need to be green!" I yell.   
She turns her head to the side and mutters, "I was just trying to help." The conversation settles into an awkward silence. That's until Lilly decided to blurt out her plans, "But! Today I've made a potion that will most definitely help you. It's a growing potion, you can finally be tall!"   
I just stare at her. She said each word with great confidence, something not so good. I let my hand rest on my face as I take a breather. "Lilly, are you forgetting that I can also do that!" I fume.   
"But! You lose your abilities when you grow. And this potion will make you grow, without losing your powers! So, if you need to be big and have your abilities intact, this is the potion for you," She chirps.  
"Lilly, I would be a walking invisible obstacle! Yea! That really helps me," The end of my sentence is dipped in sarcasm.   
She whips back with, "If you need to be sneaky."   
"I'm four inches tall. I'm pretty sure I got that covered."  
"You'll be so much taller, though. Think at the distance you could cover!"  
"When I want to assassinate somebody, I'll come get you."  
"Just try some now. Make sure it works."  
'That's what worries me."  
"It was the one time, just try one more time. Please?"  
"I'm not doing it and that's final!" I state. Lilly makes an audible groan and turns into her house. "Don't you dare be salty at me. I know you wouldn't like being used as a lab rat." I bark.  
A groan is my response and she slumps her shoulders some. "I'm not using you as a lab rat. Your the only originally small, sentient, and semi-friendly person I know. I can't use this on anybody else. Your my only option, but your right about me. I wouldn't want to test these either. I'm not exactly the best potion maker." Lily ends her rant rather dimly.   
I stare at her back. Is she really trying this? "Lilly, your mainly correct. Your a pretty good potion maker, not the best mind you. But, your sad talk isn't gonna convince me, you manipulative jackass," I sigh.  
She chuckles, "Awww, I thought you'd fall for it again. Man, seeing your crushed face last time was hysterical! I should've known you wouldn't get tricked twice."   
"Wow, your such a great friend."  
"Better compared to your other friends"  
"That involves Sage, you know that right?"  
"Well, take her out of the list and I'm right."  
"Angel, Robert, even Gus-"   
"Alright! I'm not the best, but still. You love me and would be devastated if I disappeared."


	4. Draft/Request: The Last Guardian

This was a request from my friend. He asked if I could write something about Trico and the boy reuniting and living together, so here you go. I'm fine with taking requests and ideas, so if you have any I'm willing to take.

The slight breeze tickles the man's face. Spectral lights dance around his village. Their movements, a gentle flapping. The blue butterflies giving off the slightest nostalgic feeling. The once rare blue glow he'd see in the ruins echoed within his village.  
Once a boy, and now a man. Tohoka took over the rule, protecting his people. They were once ravished by beasts, but now live together.  
Tohoka remembers the chaos he lived through. But, he went through with another. A beast. He called the beast by its formal name, Trico. These creatures had before attacked, only taking children.  
Their friendship born from containment and trust. The boy had woken in a mysterious place. The place recalled past events and stories. His adventure told of the beginning and end of a corrupt kingdom.  
This vast kingdom once prospered. It too had peace with the creatures named Trico's. But, in the past they were called 'Guardians'. They were titled to this name in many ways. The Guardians helped build, keep, and protect their kingdom.  
The people studied their powers. The powers of the Runes. Runes held secret power. The power of air, electricity, things beyond their belief. Those who truly followed Runes etched them into their skin. To better wield them, to better control them.  
Decades went by. Their technology improved and the kingdom grew. But, so did their greed. The people forgot the peace and equality their ancestors held.  
With the Runes, they trapped and enslaved the Guardians. They forced them to be chained and to have armor. Guardians were now only slaves and entertainers to them.  
Many didn't agree with the twisted view, they were killed. The ruler could not have any fleeting ideals.  
The ruler realized the lack of people soon to come, and the people who would come for him. So, he made a plan. The Guardians were to no longer be only controlled by fear, but him.  
He forced his kingdoms image into their minds. Burned the ever seeing eye into their mind. With his actions, more and more went against him. He didn't need them, he had all the power he wanted.  
Sending out the Guardians, he collected children. The ruler had their skin covered in Runes. To ensure their place and power. If any of them went out of place, he slaughtered them. He'd put their power and souls into armor. He made them slaves to him.  
The man went insane, killing any who weren't under his power. Fearing those who would come to end him. But, even with no threat to come kill him. He still had death to worry about.  
The ruler eventually died, but his mark didn't. The children souls still trapped and tortured in the decade old armor. Still with the command to attack all those who entered their ruler's kingdom.  
Guardians still went after children in fear of the eyes. The king had placed them everywhere, though many shattered through the years. Enough stayed to make the Guardians fearful.  
With each child brought, the 'knights' killed them. Making more twisted 'knights' to stay in the kingdom. Eventually, the Guardians stopped bringing children. They were dying, there was no longer food to sustain them.  
The once happy and prosperous kingdom crumbled into devastation and death. Leaving neither Human or Guardians unscarred.  
Tohoka shivers at the thought of facing the old king. He's disgusted with the man's blindness. He remembers fondly the time he had with Trico. The battles fought and the puzzles solved.  
He had sworn he would protect his friend and that oath continued on. Him and Trico did part ways when it was his time to leave. It brought him great sadness to part ways, but he accepted it. He would not force Trico through pain.  
Tohoka remembers the day he came back to his village. He was covered in Runes and had been exhausted. Trico had barely gotten him home, as he had been torn apart by other Trico's.  
He told his story to everybody in his village. Near to everybody believed him. From that day forward, he swore to tell the truth about Trico.  
He grew and as he did, he reminded everybody. He reminded them that kindness can be shared with anything. That protecting what you love is worth it.  
When he had seen a group of boys huddled around an object, he became curious. He found what they were looking at, his old shield. A beacon of sorts, that was now caked in mud.  
For the rest of the day he cleaned the shield. And while doing so he told his story to the boys.  
One last time, he pointed the shield to the sky. He had the hope, the smallest bit, that Trico would burst through the clouds. It didn't happen, he did feel something. The feeling of reassurance went through him, that Trico was safe.  
It was the best day of Tohoka's life when I large shadow swooped over the village. Most yelled and prepared to fight in an instant. Tohoka searched for what made the shadow. He saw a long tail and feathery wings in the sky.  
Trico. His best friend had came back. Tears stung in his eyes, he came back. Trico landed in front of him. Happiness glimmered in the beast's eyes.


End file.
